


No, But I'd Like To

by DizzyDrea



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M, Families of Choice, Family, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Meet the Family, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-02
Updated: 2013-08-02
Packaged: 2017-12-22 04:20:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/908848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzyDrea/pseuds/DizzyDrea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I may like Tony Stark," he said quietly as he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, "but that doesn't mean I want to kiss him. You, on the other hand…"</p>
            </blockquote>





	No, But I'd Like To

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by the character profile video for Melinda May that was released last week. There's a split-second shot of Melinda and Phil Coulson that made me think of the two of them together. Something about the way her head is angled that just pinged something with the Muse. I never said it made sense. Click [here](http://www.blastr.com/2013-7-26/new-shield-footage-introduces-mysterious-new-agent) to watch the video, if you're curious.
> 
> Also, it's my birthday, but you get the present. Every year I post a story on my birthday in one of my favorite fandoms. This year it's The Avengers. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Disclaimer: The Avengers and Marvel's Agents of SHIELD and all its particulars are the property of Marvel Studios, Walt Disney Studios, Joss Whedon, and a lot of other people who aren’t me. I am doing this for fun and for practice. Mostly for fun.

~o~

Phil Coulson stood on the balcony, gazing out at the city of New York. The landscape was still dotted with scaffolding, dark patches amid the nighttime glow where buildings were being rehabbed or rebuilt altogether. The city was recovering, though it was a long, slow process, and some of the wounds weren't physical. There were still whole office buildings that hadn't been rented out yet, despite being finished and gleaming, no apparent sign that they'd ever been in the midst of an alien invasion. 

It'd been over a year since that day, a year of hope and healing and painstakingly heartbreaking mourning for all that they'd lost, both the people and the sense of security they'd all taken for granted. It had been a long year, and even with the rebuilding going on and the sense of hope that always brought, some days it still felt as if no time had passed, the pain was that fresh and visceral.

Phil took a sip of his whiskey, wincing at the burn as the expensive alcohol slid down his throat. He shook his head at the direction of his thoughts. 

It wasn't like him to be maudlin. He'd survived the day, despite Loki's best efforts. It had been the work of a moment, not planned but still necessary, to convince The Avengers that he'd been killed. The idea had been his, but Nick Fury was the one who caught all the flack when Phil turned up at the debrief after the battle, not looking as dead as he should have.

And now he had his own team, in addition to acting as SHIELD Liaison to The Avengers. His life was infinitely more complicated today than it had been a year ago. Yet, for all that, he felt like he was standing still.

"Penny for your thoughts."

Phil huffed. "Not sure they're worth that much."

"Never know until you try."

He glanced over at the woman standing beside him. Melinda May was a lot of things: tough, sassy, sexy as hell, an accomplished field agent with years of training and experience. He'd been lucky that she let him talk her into reentering the field. And he had no illusions about that. She'd been the one to pull herself out of field duty, no longer able to trust herself when things got hairy. He'd promised her all she had to do was drive the bus.

It wasn't exactly true, but he'd waited to spring the rest on her, hoping she'd feel the pull on her own and want to get involved. It hadn't exactly worked that way, but she also hadn't handed his ass to him when it was all over, so he'd counted it as a win and moved on.

He sighed again, taking another sip of his drink. "I just keep thinking—things haven't really changed, have they? I mean, we won, and that's supposed to mean something. But in the end, we're still facing the same problems we always were, still fighting the same battles. We might be fighting them against new enemies, but what's really different?"

"Mmmmm," she hummed. "Not like you to get so introspective."

"Yeah," he said. 

The silence stretched and neither of them felt the need to fill it. He'd always appreciated that about her: no idle chatter necessary. If she had something to say, she'd say it. It was calming, in a way. He let that calm wash over him and settle, feeling the tightness in his chest ease just a little.

"Thanks," he said, breaking the quiet.

He pushed up and leaned his hip against the railing, turning to face her. She was facing the view, her profile not giving any indication of where her thoughts were, though the hint of a smile curved her lips, all the answer he'd get to his gratitude.

A sharp bark of laughter caught his attention, and his eyes drifted into the open lounge of Stark's living quarters in the tower. He could pick the man out easily, standing near the bar, talking nearly a mile a minute with Agent Fitz, who by all appearances was captivated by whatever the billionaire-philanthropist-playboy-genius was saying. Just a step away, Jemma Simmons and Bruce Banner were deep into their own conversation, eyes alight with science in a way that no one else understood.

Well, maybe Stark did, because every once in a while, the two conversations would collide and there'd be four eager faces, arms waving here and there as some point or another was made. He wasn't sure if that boded well for the planet, the four of them conspiring together.

 _A problem for another day_ , he thought as he emptied his glass.

His eyes scanned the rest of the room, noting with interest the other clusters of conversation going on. Steve Rogers and Grant Ward had hit it off immediately on meeting; both men shared a devotion to duty and a by-the-book philosophy, making it easy to see why they got along. Meanwhile, Clint Barton and their erstwhile hacker, Skye, seemed to have found common ground. Not surprising, considering Clint's background. What little he knew about Skye suggested that Clint's grounding influence, and the fact that he'd found a home with SHIELD, might be good for her. If the world survived whatever they were planning.

He found Natasha standing a little apart from the rest of the group. Not surprising; she often chose to be alone rather than suffer through the company of people she didn't know or found somehow lacking. He didn't pretend to understand the scale she used to make that determination, only that he was glad he'd come out somehow worthy. 

The only member of the team missing tonight was Thor. His father had recalled him for a brief time, and while they didn't strictly need him on the team, it always felt a little unbalanced without him there. Phil thought his absence might be a blessing in disguise tonight. Lord knew what his new team would make of the God of Thunder.

His gaze returned to the woman at his side, and something clicked into place. "So, have you and Natasha finished plotting out how you're going to take over the world?"

Melinda's smile curled infinitesimally larger. "We're working on it. You men make it so easy."

"Far be it from me to get in your way," Phil said, holding up a hand. "Just let me know if you need a minion."

"You, Phil Coulson, could never be just a minion."

"Yeah, but lackey doesn't pay as well."

She chuckled. "How about consort? All the grapes you can eat."

His mind stuttered for a brief second as he saw a slight tightening around her eyes, followed by an apologetic smile tossed his way on a quick glance. It wasn't much, and if he hadn't been looking at her, he wouldn't have seen it.

"Sorry. Bad joke."

Because for all that they'd come a long way in the last year, it was hard to forget the hurts. Like his girlfriend, who'd been more pissed than anyone he'd ever seen—and he knew the Hulk—when she'd found out that he'd played dead for a week. He and Fury had agreed that he shouldn't have any contact with anyone during that time, but he hadn’t counted on HR contacting her to break the news of his untimely demise. So, when he called her after his enforced vacation, she'd practically fainted, and then ripped him a new one before hanging up on him. Loudly. 

They hadn't spoken since.

"It's okay," he said, looking down into his glass and wishing Stark had figured out a way to make it bottomless. He could really use another drink. He set the glass on the railing and tucked his hand into his pocket.

There was more he could say. More he probably _should_ say. But as usual, the words got caught somewhere in his throat and refused to be dislodged. Instead, he retreated into the comforting silence and said nothing at all.

He thought about The Avengers and his latest team as he watched them interact. The two teams were mirror images of each other, something that was as much down to fate as intention. They each filled a role on the team, both for their particular set of skills and for the way they fit together. It was like a family, in a way, and tonight was all about his family meeting the new in-laws.

He snorted at that, shaking his head as he wondered where that thought had come from.

"What?"

"Nothing," he said, shaking his head again. "Just remembering what Stark said about tonight."

"All the beer you can drink and none of the embarrassment of stumbling out of the bar at ridiculous-o'clock in the morning?"

Phil laughed at that, because that had actually been Tony's argument for the evening. Well, that and the fact that Phil couldn't have another team unless The Avengers approved. Something about these people having his back after everything had happened. He was a little fuzzy on that, considering it was coming from Tony.

"They care about you."

"Yeah, they do."

"And you care about them."

Phil smiled. Yeah, he did. Despite threatening to tase Stark on a regular basis, and despite having to wrangle six massive egos—well, more like two and a half massive egos and a few quietly competent superheroes—he'd actually grown fond of them. And he'd never live it down if Stark found out.

He opened his mouth to say just that when Melinda beat him to it.

"I won't tell. Promise." A sly smile curled her lips. "Besides, I think Fitz and Simmons wouldn't like knowing they weren't your favorites."

He threw her a grateful smile. 

They lapsed into silence again as Phil thought about how busy the year had been. He'd had zero time for anything resembling a personal life, and if it weren't for The Avengers, he wasn't sure he'd have even spent time outside the office over the last year. Of course, that was a bit like going for drinks with the crowd from work, but at least he was with people instead of stuck in an office all damned day.

Not that he didn't love his job, but somehow, Fury had talked him into moving into the Tower, so now he didn't just work with this menagerie, he lived with them, too. And the idea of bringing a date home to _that_ didn't bear thinking about. Which made the sharp stab of loneliness all the more frustrating, even if it was unavoidable. He just didn't have time, even if he did have the inclination, which lead back to Tony Stark waiting up for him in the lounge after a date, and how ridiculous and embarrassing that would be.

"It's not easy," Melinda said quietly.

"How…"

She raised an eyebrow. "I've seen that look in the mirror far too many times to mistake it for anything else."

"Yeah," he said, sighing. "When Nick told me this would be an adventure, I was kind of hoping he meant work, not life."

"And you wouldn't have it any other way."

He smiled, a small thing that was one part resigned and one part honest. "No, I wouldn't."

"You don't miss the 2.5 kids and the picket fence?"

There was something in her voice, something he couldn't quite name. Curiosity, maybe, but something deeper, too.

"Hard to miss something you've never thought you'd have," he said instead. "I've always known that normal wasn't for me. Still, having someone to come home to would be nice. Someone who isn't Tony Stark."

Melinda moved closer, slowly stepping into his personal space, giving him plenty of time to step back if he wanted to. Her hands settled on his hips under his jacket, two warm points of contact that burned through the fabric of his suit. "I'm not Tony Stark."

She leaned in, closing the distance between them in a heartbeat. Her lips brushed his, whisper soft and gentle, almost as if they weren't there at all. And yet, he could feel them, feel the place where her lips had fitted over his own, feel the scorched path through his nerves as the sudden sizzle of attraction flowed through him, an altogether unexpected reaction.

She pulled back, stepping away from him with a muttered apology. But just as she was about to turn and walk—or maybe run, he wasn't sure—away, his hand shot out, grabbing her wrist and tugging her back to him.

He wrapped an arm around her back to stall her retreat, then leaned in and kissed her. This time, the press of lips was more urgent, more demanding. He tangled his fingers into her sleek black tresses, holding her to him as he drank in her kisses. Lips caressed, teeth nipped, tongues slid together as easy as breathing. As far as first kisses went, it was undeniably hot and over too quickly.

When he pulled back, it was to see the legendary Melinda May's lips kiss-stung and her hair mussed. If possible, she looked even better than the always-put-together Agent May. He had no illusions that he was the first to ever see her looking so sexy, but maybe if he played his cards right, he'd be the last for a long while.

"I may like Tony Stark," he said quietly as he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, "but that doesn't mean I want to kiss him. You, on the other hand…"

He let the sentence trail off, but his meaning was clear. She smiled, that coy, sexy smile that had been melting hearts for years in the field. But this smile was deeper, mixed with something genuinely warm and affectionate that made him feel all of it, clear to the bone.

"I'll try to remember that," she said playfully. "Had you ever…?"

He didn't need her to finish that sentence to know what she was thinking. Had he ever thought of her that way before? Melinda had always seemed untouchable; she held the world at arm's length, the better to remain detached and objective. It was something all agents did, to varying degrees. It didn’t mean they didn't want to be close to someone, only that it wasn't always possible. 

"No," he said, smiling. "But I'd like to."

"Good," she said.

It wouldn't be easy, not that anything worth having ever was. At least SHIELD didn't have fraternization regulations to contend with. Fury's view on that was that he didn't want to know what people got up to on their own time. As long as it didn’t compromise operational effectiveness, you could date whomever you pleased. Right now, Phil was more grateful than his old friend would ever know.

Just then, a loud cry went up inside. Phil and Melinda turned as one to find the whole group—both teams—gathered around the bar area, yelling and cheering with obvious enthusiasm.

"Is that—are they playing Beer Pong?"

Melinda chuckled. "It would appear they are."

"Who thought it was a good idea to throw two teams of ultra-competitive spies and superheroes headlong into a drinking game?"

"Do you really have to ask?" she asked, her eyebrow raised as if to say _and you call yourself a spy_.

"Yeah, okay," he said.

"Shall we?"

Phil looked down at the woman still tucked into his arms. She was smiling, a genuine smile filled with contentment. He leaned down and pecked her lips one last time before letting her pull away. Opening the door to the balcony, he stood back as she passed through ahead of him, with a look on her face that suggested that she could open her own doors, thankyouverymuch. His only answer was a shrug.

As they entered the room, another cheer went up and Phil rolled his eyes. They were indeed playing Beer Pong, and Tony Stark was at the center of it. But as his eyes roved the room, taking in the avid faces of both teams, he thought that might be a small price to pay. They all seemed to be enjoying themselves, and with what they all did for a living, it wasn't too much to ask that they have some fun every once in a while.

He turned in time to find Natasha's speculative gaze on him. He wasn't sure what he looked like, but it was probably something less than his usually impeccable appearance. Not that he could find it in himself to care. He'd thoroughly enjoyed kissing Melinda, and hoped he'd be doing it again very soon. As if she could read the thoughts in his head, Natasha smiled, lifting her glass ever so slightly in a salute as she flicked her gaze between himself and Melinda.

Message sent and received. At least he knew of one Avenger who'd approve. And not that he'd need any of their approvals, but they were family.

As odd as that was.

~Finis


End file.
